Beautiful
by Principi Phantasia
Summary: It's not how things are, but the way we see things, that matter.


It was gloomy, just like my mood that day – not that my mood had been anything but gloomy lately.

I trudged along the pavement with my hands in my pockets. I kept my head down; I wasn't in the mood of seeing what's become of the world around me.

I soon reached my destination. I took one hand out of my pocket to push the cemetary gate open. I strode onwards till I stood before Fred's grave.

I stood there in silence for a moment or two before crouching down and beginning to speak. "Hey, Fred," I touched his headstone. "How are you? It's been awhile since I last visited." I only visited Fred on gloomy days. I couldn't stand to go outside with the sun shining brightly; it was too cheery for me. And since it was just the beginning of fall, it meant that I haven't had the chance to visit Fred in quite a while, what with all the summer sunshine.

"I hope you're still being your goofy self, wherever you are," I chuckled shortly and then sniffled.

"I think you should take that advice yourself," I heard a female's voice speak.

I turned around in surprise; I wasn't expecting company. The other reason why I visited on gloomy days was because people don't usually come out during those days. _Normal_ people. _Wise_ people. And I was trying to keep my contact with other human beings at a minimum – which means that the only time I want to see people is when they're shopping at _our_ shop. I wanted to avoid their pitying stares; their comforting words – which does anything but what they're intended to do. I couldn't close the joke shop, though. _He_ worked hard for it, and I wanted to appreciate his efforts.

Angelina Johnson stared back at me evenly, waiting for me to finish figuring things out in my head and respond. I didn't, though. I merely turned back to face Fred's grave.

"You know, you're not the only one who's mourning," Angelina said. Ah, no wonder she seemed quite different; her eyes did not hold pity for me the way the others' did. I'm beginning to like her already.

She continued, despite my lack of response, "But you _are_ the one who had to lose a brother _and_ an ear." And that feeling of liking disappeared, just like that. Replaced by annoyance.

I whipped around and narrowed my eyes at her. "I didn't just lose a brother, I lost a _twin_," I emphasized, as if it made all the difference in the world. Which it did.

"Oh! So you _do_ speak," she mused, mocking surprise.

"This is not a joke, Angelina!" I gritted through my teeth fiercely. I felt so angry, I was seeing red. It surprised me; I haven't felt anything but grief and sorrow in awhile.

She must've seen the change of emotions on my face, because she said, "That's it. Let it out, let it _all_ out." She stepped closer towards me.

I tried to spark the anger that I knew was within me, "This wasn't supposed to happen! He was… I…" And just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared, leaving me with a hollow nothingness. I sighed, defeated.

"I don't know what to do without him, Angelina," I admitted.

It started to rain. It wasn't a storm, but it was enough to get us wet in no time.

She put a hand on my shoulder and crouched down to my level. "I know," was all she said. Whether she meant she knew how I felt, or she knew what I should do without Fred, I don't know. And I didn't have the energy to care.

"Aren't you grieving, too?" I asked in wonder.

That's when I really looked at her for the first time. Her hair was a mess, she had bags underneath her eyes, and her eyes looked old and tired. She didn't need to reply in order for me to know the answer to my question.

"We're _all_ grieving, George. It's just… sometimes we have to be strong, to support the others," she said slowly. "If everyone's grieving and no one's being strong, then there will be no end to the grief. And that's just too painful for me to imagine."

"But I'm not strong enough, I can't be…" I whispered.

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only option you have," she recited, as if it were a quote she'd read a thousand times over that she'd memorized it. And maybe it was.

"You and Fred had always been the ones to help your family get through hard times," she said after a pause. She locked her eyes to mine and continued, "And now that Fred's gone, they need you more than ever.

"They're struggling, and you being your current self are making them feel as if they've lost both you and Fred. Do you know how much it's _killing _them?" she hadn't broken eye contact with me, "You _have_ to be strong. For them. For your _family_. For the people who _love_ you."

I stared blankly ahead, "I never knew you were so wise." She shook her head.

"If you'd known earlier, would you have allowed Fred to date me?" she side-glanced at me and smirked.

And for the first time in ages, I cracked a genuine smile, "Probably not."

The rain started to lighten, and the skies cleared a little.

"So, what brings you here, today?" I queried.

"It's Saturday," she answered, and she needn't say anything more. I instantly understood that, just like I always visited Fred on gloomy days, she always visited him on Saturdays – the day he died. And by some wondrous coincidence, it was also the day he was born. The day _we_ were born.

"He loved Saturdays," I told her, "'Not quite the end of the weekend – that's Sunday – when I have to dread about going to school or work the next day. Also not the beginning of the weekend – which is Friday – when we're merely just relieved from our tiresome, boring routines. Nope, on Saturdays, I get to have the _whole_ day to myself,' he used to say."

She laughed at this. "Oh, Fred, who wouldn't miss him."

This returned my brooding mood, "I'd give _anything_ to have him back."

"Even admit that he's the better-looking twin?" she teased, trying to get the light mood back.

I smiled ruefully, "Even that."

There was a minute of silence between us before Angelina took a deep breath and turned to me. "How come I've never met you on my previous trips here?" she wondered.

I shrugged, "There are seven days a week, and twenty four hours a day."

She nodded, "Right. It's not that easy to come across someone coincidentally."

"So what do you call this?" I asked.

"Fate," she said curtly.

Suddenly she looked up to the sky and pointed, "Hey, look, there's a rainbow."

I followed her glance and sighed, "Even the rainbow is frowning, Angelina."

oOo

The next time we met was on another gloomy Saturday. I hadn't expected her to be there. Like I said myself, there are twenty four hours a day.

But as I spotted Fred's grave from behind a birch tree, I caught a glimpse of her familiar figure, crouched down beside Fred's headstone. Angelina was already there.

"I see your visiting schedule hasn't changed," I said when I was within hearing distance.

She didn't seem at all surprised by my presence. Without turning, she asked me, "Do _you_ have a visiting schedule?"

I lowered myself onto the ground on the other side of Fred's grave, "Nope. I like to come and go as I please."

She eyed me for a moment then said, "I don't believe you."

I shrugged.

There was a pause between us.

"So… what's up?" she asked, striking up a conversation. Lamely, if you ask me. But, hey, I'm not one to be judging.

"Same old, same old," I replied.

"Have you gotten a life since I last met you?"

I sighed. Does she always have to broach the sensitive topics?

"It's difficult, Angelina. Every time I turn around, I keep expecting him to be there. But he's not."

She let a moment of silence pass. "He's not really gone, you know," she said quietly. "He's still alive. In our hearts," she placed a hand over her chest and another over mine.

I moved my hand over hers, to keep it where it was.

It started raining, just like the last time; just as I'd predicted.

She stared at me in bewilderment as realization dawned upon her, "You do have a schedule."

I gave her a small smile. Amazing how she could already figure me out.

oOo

We laid on our backs on either side of Fred's grave; hands connected above the small mound.

"Is this wrong?" I suddenly asked.

I knew she knew exactly what I meant.

She thought for a moment before musing, "Love is what we are born with. Fear is what we learn. The spiritual journey is the unlearning of fear and prejudices, and the acceptance of love back into our hearts. Love is the essential reality and our purpose on earth. To be consciously aware of it, to experience love in ourselves and in others, is the meaning of life. So, no, I don't think this is wrong."

I was mindblown. "Wow. Have you been reading books instead of playing Quidditch?"

She just laughed.

I don't know how long we laid there doing nothing but feel the pelt of the rain on our faces and on our skin, but suddenly the rain was gone. This time, I was the one who pointed out the rainbow to Angelina.

But this time was different than the last.

I realized that the rainbow wasn't in the shape of a frown; it was an upside-down smile. I realized, that it's not how things are, but the way we see things, that matter.

And right then, I saw a beautiful rainbow above me, a beautiful girl by my side, and beautiful memories with my brother.

I saw a beautiful new beginning.


End file.
